Specialis Revelio
by when demons run
Summary: Severus Snape saves Hermione Granger's life. Then, he is ordered to kill her. Will he murder his own student just to play it safe with the Dark Lord?
1. Chapter 1

_The usual disclaimers apply: I own nothing except the story… Any characters or plots that you recognize belong to J. K. Thanks for reading! P.S. The Snape in my story is not played by Alan Rickman. I know it's hard to imagine a face other than his when Snape is mentioned, but just think of how J.K. explains him in the book, perhaps as Benedict Cumberbatch._

Hermione quickly walked through the corridors, keeping her head low as she sped from the great hall. She let out a sigh of relief as she crossed the threshold of the huge double doors at the front of the castle, slipping through just before curfew. She glared at the ground, her amber eyes brimming with tears as the events of the evening played back in her head. After a particularly hard quiz in charms, she had made her way to the last class of the day, potions with Slytherin. Her face had brightened when she saw Harry and Ron had saved her a seat next to them, but she winced as she saw their faces. They had obviously been fighting about something, as they both wore death glares and refused to look at each other. As she plopped down in the chair between them, she asked, "What's the matter with you guys? You're not excited for potions with Slytherin?" Her eyes had twinkled, but Harry growled under his breath.

"Ron thinks it's my fault he wasn't chosen for the quiddich team this year."

Hermione seemed surprised, and turned to Ron, who scowled at Harry and clenched his hands into fists.

"Like bloody hell it wasn't!" screamed Ron, "You're on the tryout committee! You're just jealous that I'm a better player than you!" Ron turned away from Harry and Hermione, positively fuming.

"What happened at tryouts, Harry?" Hermione asked softly.

Harry scowled. "Everything was going alright until Ron fell off his broom…twice."

"You just can't tell natural talent when you see it." Ron huffed.

Hermione groaned, and was just about to say something when the door to the classroom burst open, and Professor Snape strode into the room. His black robes billowed impressively as he spun neatly on his heel, scowling at the class. Neville, seated in the row directly ahead of them, positively cowered, emitting a small squeak as the professor started barking orders.

"Page three hundred and twenty-seven! You will start immediately!"

As the students scurried to find the page, Hermione whispered, "I wonder what's got _him_ in such a bad mood…"

Ron leaned over to reply, but was stopped almost immediately by a quiet growl from behind them.

"That, Miss Granger, is none of your business." the Potions Master snarled, "Ten points from Gryffindor for distracting your fellow students during class." Snape's face contorted into his trademark smirk as he stalked to the other side of the classroom. Hermione grimaced at her own stupidity. She should have waited until she knew Snape was distracted, she thought, adding ingredients to her already bubbling cauldron. She glanced down at the potion instructions, realizing that the last ingredient did not come in her potions kit. Damn. She would have to go to the shelves on the other side of the classroom to look for it in Snape's stores.

"I'll be right back," she whispered to her friends, silently standing, and walking over to the shelves. She bit her lip, scanning the tall dusty rows of vials, packages and bottles. Her sharp eyes finally found the small vial of angel's trumpet, but she sighed in frustration because it was on the very top shelf. She didn't even try to reach it, knowing that it might even be a stretch for Snape, who towered at well over six feet. Glancing around for the professor, she quickly transfigured a small, empty urn into a sturdy looking stepladder. She placed the ladder under the small vial, and swiftly climbed it, pocketing the ingredient before gracefully hopping down. She transfigured the stepladder back into the dusty urn, and returned it to its corner with a gentle flick of her wand. Letting out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, she turned back to the table where her friends were. A sharp squeal escaped her lips when she nearly ran into the potions master. She looked up at him nervously, trying to think of something to say when he spoke in deep rumble, causing her to step back.

"What were you doing in my private stores, Miss Granger?"

Her cheeks reddened, and she realized the whole class was staring at them.

"I…I was fetching the final ingredient for the potion you wanted, Professor…"

Snape scowled, "If I specified the potion, Miss Granger, do you honestly believe me to be so daft as to not provide the ingredients needed?" He stepped slightly to the left, allowing her a clear view of his desk, which bore a small pile of vials of angel's trumpet. Hermione gawked at his desk, not believing that she hadn't seen the ingredient there before.

Snape smirked at her extremely embarrassed expression, saying, "If, you had simply asked me, instead of behaving like you own my classroom, you wouldn't be receiving detention right now. Return to your seat immediately."

Hermione nearly ran back to her seat, and Harry and Ron looked at her with concern.

Ron spoke first, "Wow, Hermione, are you okay? You sure got on Snape's bad side today."

Hermione said nothing, wiping her sweaty palms on her Gryffindor robes. Harry spoke next.

"I'm sorry Hermione, seems like you got punished for Snape's bad mood."

Hermione shrugged, fighting back anger. When she spoke, her voice cracked. "I've never gotten detention with Professor Snape before… What do you think he'll make me do?" Both Harry and Ron grimaced as they recalled all of their detentions at the hands of the merciless potions master.

"Well, it definitely won't be easy. One time he made me scour all the first year's cauldrons from their first attempt at a dreamless sleep potion." Harry groaned, "It took forever!"

Ron recalled one of his first detentions with Snape. "Once, he made me re-categorize his entire store of potions! It took hours because he didn't like the way I did it, making me start over twice!"

Hermione shuddered as she stirred her now bright purple potion. "Well," she sighed, "I suppose I won't find out until I get there." She took her potion off the heat and added the last ingredient.

….

Hermione's head whirled through the rest of potions class, which was quite uneventful. Then, she thought about dinner that evening. She had walked into the great hall flanked by Harry and Ron, but then she had excused herself to the bathroom. When she had returned, the great hall was nearly full and everyone was eating. As she made her way down the Gryffindor table, she glanced up at where the teachers were seated. Her eyes flitted over Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, and finally came to rest on Snape. She quickly stared down at her feet, because the professor's icy gaze was resting on her. She shivered, thinking that he might be dreaming up wretched tasks for her to completer in detention. As she neared her seat, she immediately noticed that Harry and Ron were fighting again. Ron banged his greasy turkey leg on the table.

"I KNOW you're just jealous of me, Harry!" he growled, spewing bits of spittle and chewed turkey all over Harry. "I've got natural skill for quidditch!"

Harry wiped his face with his hands half-heartedly as he came up with a worthy comeback. "Ron, I swear I was outvoted by the rest of the committee! It wasn't my fault!"

"Yeah, right. You're saying that now…" Ron started babbling distractedly as he piled more food on his plates. Hermione finally reached them and gently prodded them apart, sitting between the quarreling wizards.

"Ron," she said softly, "tryouts are over, is it really worth it to keep fighting with your best friend when there's no way to change what happened? Even if Harry did vote you off the team, you can't change that now."

Ron growled, his face reddening. "My _best_ friend? My best friend wouldn't have voted me off the team in the first place! And what do _you_ know about quidditch, Hermione? You've never tried out! It's something you need natural talent for." At the last statement he glared over Hermione's shoulder at Harry. "You can't use your silly books and perfect grades to be the best at what _really_ matters!" he said, lashing out at her again. Ron turned away, fuming, and stuffed three treacle tarts in his mouth.

Harry glared at Hermione. "He's right you know. You don't know anything about it! You can't just walk over here and pretend that this is a silly schoolboy fight!"

…..

Hermione shuddered as she recalled her best friends ganging up on her. When Harry had finished talking, she had run from the great hall, trembling with hurt and anger at her friends. She walked over the moonlit grounds blindly, deep in thought. She sat down next to the lake, suddenly feeling lonely, but not wanting to return just yet. She buried her face in her hands, thinking. She pulled her wand from her robes, the feeling of the soft vine wood comforting her. "Avis" she whispered to the familiar length, conjuring a small flock of tiny white birds. They hovered around her, one landing on her knee as she watched them sadly.

Her back ached from sitting on the hard earth, and her fingers were sticky from when she had crushed a bit of treacle tart in anger under the table. She stood and silently walked to the edge of the black water, bending low to dip her fingers in it. She gasped, surprised at how warm the was before realizing that teachers had probably charmed the surface to be warmer, in case any first years fell in on their boat ride several nights ago. She almost laughed, thinking about how Neville had fallen in the lake so many years ago, claiming to have been thrown back in the boat by the giant squid.

She dipped her hands further into the lake, relishing the sensation of the warm water against her chilled skin. She pulled her hands out, instantly feeling cold again. She decided to put her feet in the water, and taking off her shoes and socks, Hermione dipped her toes in, nearly gasping in pleasure as the warm water lapped at her ankles. Her body longed to enter the water instead of shivering on its edge, and her logical mind began mulling over any possible dangers. She knew that Grindylows lurked beneath the surface, not to mention the giant squid. But Grindylows stayed in the depths, didn't they? And if Neville's story was right, the squid would mean no harm to a witch.

She glanced back at the castle, making sure no one could see her here. She quickly muttered a disillusionment charm, before slipping out of her robes and outer clothes. She entered the water and quickly paddled out deeper, sighing in comfort. Hermione dove beneath the surface for a moment, letting the black water swirl through her tangled curls. She felt something soft brush her leg, almost comfortingly as she swam deeper into the lake. She was startled at first, but then remembered how much seaweed grew in the lake. She swam back to the surface, floating lazily as she admired her birds flitting in the moonlight over the black water. Another tendril of seaweed gently brushed her back, getting tangled around her legs for a moment before she absent mindedly brushed it away. Her sigh of contentment was interrupted when the pesky weed caught around her wrist, and she could look at it properly above the water. Gasping in shock, she frantically tried to yank the suckered tentacle off her skin. As Hermione kicked and squirmed in the water, another tentacle latched around her ankles, leaving her largely immobile as the evil tendrils pulled her down. She only thought to scream as the black water closed over her head.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sorry about this chapter everyone... I attempted to upload it from the fanfiction app, and that didn't work very well. I do not recommend using the app to upload new chapters. If it still doesn't display correctly, please tell me in your review (;_

Snape paced his bedchambers; three large strides, pivot, three large strides... He paused, thinking deeply, and glaring at a plain white letter scrawling with the untidy handwriting of his mother. He sighed in resignation, dimming the candles before laying back on his deep green comforter. "Legilimens" he whispered, his heavy brows furrowed as he reached out to his ailing father. Hoping not to startle him, he gently pressed into the old Muggle's mind, drawing in a breath at the pain he found there. Suddenly, he bolted upright, snapping all the candles alive with one glance, and sweeping out of his rooms with great the potions master had opened his mind to speak to his father, a great jolt of panic and terror had flooded through his veins. This kind of sensation was too strong for a muggle to bear, so he had quickly sought out whose mind had made the desperate contact. He had been shocked to find that it was Granger, let alone a student of his. He knew this kind of mental bond could only be created when a dying mind reached out in desperation. He had grabbed his wand, and several vials of potions, and ran after the tracking charm that he had immediately set on her. He raced through the corridor, surprised when the charm led him out of the castle, wondering why the normally exemplary student was out on the grounds after curfew. He practically flew the half-mile down to the edge of the lake, not even winded when he arrived. He quickly took in the scene; moonlight shining off the black water, reflecting off the wings of five tiny white birds that were hovering over the surface not far from him. His trained eyes instantly spotted her disillusioned clothes, and he stared out at the birds, no doubt in his mind that that was where she was. The potions master lifted his wand, beginning to speak incantations that would save Hermione's life.

Hermione took one last gasp of air as she was dragged under the water, her hands clawed frantically at the tentacles that seemed to be growing in number and strength by the second. All she could think about where Ron and Harry, and how she had never told them how much they meant to her. Her struggles grew weaker as the icy cold water in the deep of the lake numbed her. She could no longer see the bright moon light flashing on the surface, and she wasn't sure if it was because of how deep she was, or if her vision had failed her eyes shut, her lungs burning and searing through her had so much pressure in them, she thought her head would tentacle around her waist tightened, her ribs begin to ache horribly. Her head felt foggy until a blinding light shone around her and she finally fell unconscious.

Severus' eyes closed in the concentration as incantations flowed ceaselessly over his lips. He projected the protego charm, banishing the squid back into the depths of the lake, then gently raised Hermione's lifeless body out of the black water, silently cursing himself for not arriving sooner. He summoned her over the water, setting her gently on the sand at the water's edge before rushing to her furrowed as he took in the deep cuts all over her body from the squid's sharp suckers, dark bruises already spreading over her rib cage and waist. It wasn't that the dark wizard hadn't seen brutalized bodies before, it was just that, well, this was different. As a student, she was _supposed_ to be under his protection. "Mobilicorpus" he muttered, lifting her to a flat rock near the lake. His hands tingled with magic as they hovered over her heart, and he found it wasn't beating. "Oh Gods "he whispered, fumbling in his robes for the small vials of potion he carried, while speaking incantations of desperation. He tore open his pockets for pepperup potion, and pouring a few drops down her throat, he gently lifted her head up off the rocks, whispering spells in an attempt to start her heart. He filled her lungs with a gentle gust of wind from his wand, and relaxed a little as he saw her start to breathe on her own. A small vial with essence of dittany, and set to healing the deep gashes that were leaching blood over the rocks. Hermione moaned, slowly gaining consciousness under his skilled fingers. He quickly muttered the incantation for bewitched sleep, not wanting her to wake and panic before he knew the extent of her injuries. He quickly and expertly healed the crescent shaped gashes, leaving no marks on her creamy skin. Next, he looked at the dark bruises that were still spreading over her abdomen, knowing she must at least have broken ribs. "Brackium Emendio" he muttered, his suspicions confirmed when two of her ribs glowed gold as they healed. His eyes were drawn to the bruises again, but even those quickly vanished with a few drops of murtlap essence. The potions master sighed, hoping she wouldn't go into hysterics when he woke her. "Enervate" he muttered, his powerful wand pointed at her heart.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey everyone... Thanks for reading my story! As usual, nothing belongs to me, blah blah etc. Please, please reveiw! What should happen next? Romance? An unlikely friendship? Or an even bigger rivalry between Snape and Mione? Tell me what you think..._

Hermione felt her mind start to clear and she moaned in pain. Everything hurt, but mostly her ribs. She vaguely wondered why she was alive before she heard a deep voice muttering advanced incantations. Slowly slipping back into unconsciousness she wondered if the giant squid could speak.

Hermione dabbled in and out of darkness before suddenly jerking back to consciousness, her eyes snapping open and her arms flailing around her, trying to protect herself from the giant squid. She finally could yell for help; her head was above the water. Only when she took a breath to scream did she feel the hard rock pushing up under her, and the night air nipping at her bare skin. Her eyes widened in disbelief when she finally saw the potions master, who had stepped back several paces when she started flailing. She struggled to speak, "What… How..? Oh Professor, I'm so sorry…" Then her hands felt to her ribs, remembering the awful pain that had wracked her bones. She gasped in shock as she felt nothing there save for a small amount of heat. She shook her head slowly, her face deep in thought. "I was… You… you healed me?" He nodded, stepping out of the shadows. She suddenly noticed she was only in her underwear. Shivering, she folded her arms over her tummy and tried to sit up, setting her sights on her clothes which were still down by the lake. Snape stopped her, placing his hand on her arm.

"You should try not to move. I'm taking you to the hospital wing." She shivered, feeling the icy rock beneath her leaching her body heat. Professor Snape stepped forward, wrapping his heavy cloak around her.

"Can you walk?" Hermione slowly sat up, her head aching.

"I don't know." she mumbled, looking embarrassed, but gratefully pulling his warm cloak tighter over her shoulders.

"No matter." He grumbled, speaking the incantations to lift her. He held out his hand to her while she floated in midair. She looked at him, confused.

"Miss Granger," Snape scowled, "if you are under the impression that I desire anything other than a professional relationship with you, then you are greatly mistaken. Now if you'll take my hand, I will apparate us to the castle gates, which will save both your time, and my energy." As he looked at her expectantly, Hermione blushed bright red, looking down at her toes.

"Oh of course professor… I err… I'm sorry, sir" she stammered, taking his hand. Snape muttered a few incantations, wrapping bandages around her sore ribs, and casting a silencing charm so as not to wake the rest of the castle when he apparated. With a deafening crack, they appeared just outside the castle gates. With a flick of his wand, the potions master cast a complex disillusionment charm over them both so they could make their way through the long corridors undisturbed. Hermione watched as Snape's long legs took them to the hospital wing with quick, efficient strides. Occasionally, the edge of his robes would graze her cheek as they billowed out behind him in his usual impressive manor. The professor knocked lightly on the large oak door to the hospital wing, starting slightly when Madam Pomfrey opened it almost immediately.

"I trust you got my message, Poppy."

"Bring her in Severus." Hermione's eyes widened, having never thought that these two would be on first name basis. The medicine which stepped aside, gesturing to a freshly made bed in the corner of the room. Professor Snape gently lowered Hermione onto the soft cotton blanket before turning to leave. Hermione panicked.

"W-wait!" she called, trying to sit up. The potions master turned back to the struggling witch, raising an eyebrow. Madam Pomfrey pushed her firmly back down on the bed, slipping a spoonful of potion into her mouth.

"Swallow this dearie," she coaxed, "it will help you sleep." Hermione gulped the nasty potion, catching Snape's dark eyes just before he turned away.

"Thank you" she gasped, her eyelids heavy, sleep falling over her unwilling body like a wet blanket.


	4. Chapter 4

Severus groaned inwardly as he realized he had left the girl's clothes and wand down by the lake. Oh well, he could use a walk in the cold night air to think things through. He traipsed through the corridors, glaring when the caretaker's filthy cat hissed at him from a dark corner. He couldn't wait for that cat to die, perhaps at the hands of some idiotic student miscreants. He smirked, silently slipping through the front doors of the castle, wondering if Filch would ever get a new cat. The crisp night air instantly numbed his fingers and nose. His breath swirled ahead of him in frozen, sparkling clouds. Grateful for the heavy robes he always wore, he quickened his pace, seeing the lake in the distance. Steam rose from the lake gently, and he silently cursed the inviting waters, making a mental note to deactivate the heating charm when he arrived. The stupid girl could have died. She would have, if he hadn't lowered his powerful Occlumency shields at that exact moment, or if she wasn't such a strong witch, capable of at least rudimentary Legilimency. He glared as the frozen earth beneath his feet crunched loudly; he had always preferred to travel in silence, due to his many years as a death eater. Suddenly, he froze in his tracks, turning in an ear to the lake while whispering a simple disillusionment spell.

"See! I told you we wouldn't get caught!"

Snape nearly growled in frustration as he recognized the sultry voice of his godson. Sure enough, as he crept closer, he saw the moonlight shining off of Draco's hair. He was with a girl. She wore Slytherin robes, but he couldn't see her face.

"Draco, wait! What is this?"

The potions master heard the fear in the girl's voice, and watched as she bent to inspect Miss Granger's rumpled clothes. It was time to reveal himself. He stepped as silently as possible from the shadows.

"These are Gryffindor robes!" The girl gasped, "Someone else is here!" She turned back to Draco in terror, the moonlight illuminating her face just as she saw the potions master. Her eyes widened. "Professor, it's not my fault, we can explain…" Draco whirled around, but when he saw just which 'professor' it was, he only smirked.

"I should have known," he drawled, "it could only be you, could it, Snape?" The girl squealed at his disrespectful tone.

"Draco! What are you doing?" He smiled at her, not even glancing at the professor when he started to speak.

"Miss Parkinson, Mr. Malfoy. How interesting. 50 points from each of you, and there will be more if you cannot manage to stumble upon your dormitories within the hour." He twisted the corner of his mouth up into wretched looking smile, knowing they would either have to apparate, or run to the castle gates. Draco seethed at him.

"Yes, _Professor_." Sneering, Draco grabbed Pansy's hand, apparating them to the gates. Snape sighed, he had been hoping that they would have to run, but of course Lucius had taught Draco to apparate. The potions master stalked to the lake, then placed his right hand on the warm surface. "Finite" he commanded, feeling his magic drain into the lake. Immediately lightheaded, he remembered that it had taken three of the teachers to charm the lake. The now freezing water lapped over his numb hand and he stood, drying his fingers wandlessly. He summoned Granger's clothes to him, drying and folding them in midair. Then, he bent and plucked her thin, intricately carved wand from the rocky ground. He felt it vibrate slightly in his hand, reacting to the strength of his magic. Not wanting it to bind to him, he quickly tucked it in his pocket. He whispered a heating charm, tired of the cold, and apparated back to the towering castle gates. Sweeping through the corridors toward the hospital wing, he suddenly remembered how late it was. Poppy would most likely be asleep at this hour. Not wanting to disturb either of the inhabitants of the infirmary, He headed to the nearest stairwell. Starting down the stairs to his bedchambers, he quickened his pace, hoping to catch Draco and Miss Parkinson snogging in the dungeons.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione lay beneath the scratchy sheets in the hospital wing, trying desperately to argue her way out of spending the night there. "But you said yourself that Professor Snape healed all my injuries!" Madam Pomfrey looked tired; they had been arguing for twenty minutes.

"I still think it would be best for you to spend the night here, to be under my observation while you rest." Hermione pulled at the lacy collar of the nightgown Pomfrey had given her.

"But I can rest in my _own_ bed, and I'm certain my friends are worried about me!" Hermione had only said that to try and persuade the stubborn witch. In truth, she knew that Harry and Ron would still be arguing, oblivious to her disappearance. Madam Pomfrey crossed her arms, a stern look on her face.

"Fine! You may return to your dorm." Hermione grinned. "But, you must rest tonight, no homework, no talking with Potter and Weasley." Hermione sighed but agreed. Madam Pomfrey handed her some spare Slytherin robes, and pulled the curtains around the bed for her to change into them. As Hermione hurried into the robes, she heard the grumpy sounding voice from behind the curtain. "You will bring the robes back to me tomorrow afternoon, when you come to check in with me." Hermione sighed, pulling back the curtain, and nodding consent. Just as she reached the large oak doors to the corridor, a hand on her arm stopped her. She turned to see Madam Pomfrey holding a candle in one hand, and Professor Snape's heavy cloak over the other. "You'll take this back to him tomorrow, I'm sure you have things to discuss." she said, holding out the cloak. "And you'll need these." She handed Hermione a box of matches with the candle. Hermione took the heavy, warm cloak, realizing that that the potions master had enchanted it to stay warm before he wrapped it around her. She nodded again, a small smile gracing her lips as she pulled the doors open, lighting the candle and stepping into the dark corridor. Just before closing the door, she glanced at the huge clock in the infirmary. Half-past midnight. She looked down at the cloak in her hands. Madam Pomfrey had obviously meant for her to return the cloak tomorrow, but she didn't want to go to bed just yet. She wasn't remotely tired; she had slept for nearly two hours because of that potion Pomfrey had given her. She sighed, remembering how Professor Snape always made his rounds through the castle late at night. Grimacing, she recalled how many times Harry, Ron, and herself had been caught by him in the night or early morning. Suddenly realizing that she had been wandering the castle aimlessly, she looked around her, and lifted her candle so she could see. Her eyes widened when she didn't recognize her surroundings. The portraits on the wall were snoring gently, and she noticed that even in sleep the seemed more menacing than the familiar faces of the upstairs portraits. Shuddering, she lowered her light so she wouldn't wake them. She stepped silently through the hall, turning left and right randomly, searching for a stairwell to take her to the dungeons. She hurried down the first set of dusty, cracked stone stairs she came across. One, two, three flights down she paused, knowing that this was deepest the castle would let her go, this being the level of the Slytherin common rooms. Her footsteps lifted billowing clouds of dust, and she coughed distractedly. Her shoulder brushed one of the heavy green and silver tapestries hanging over the grey stone walls. Another cloud of dust billowed over her, making her wonder how long it had been since this part of Hogwarts had been used. As she crept through the darkness, the flickering tip of her candle was the only thing she could see. Total silence enveloped her, and her breaths and footfalls cracked through the deathly calm. She paused, recalling that the common rooms were under the west tower. She quickly thought back to when she left the infirmary, yes, she had turned left. Then, at the bottom of the stairs, she had turned right, so she was still heading in the right direction. Just before she started down the corridor again, a cold chill ran down her spine. She suddenly felt as if she were being watched, and she lifted her candle, shining the flickering light back toward the staircase, then, down the hall before her. She saw nothing out of the ordinary, but the hall that lay ahead was so long that it seemed to swallow her candlelight, and continue for miles in darkness. She continued walking west, but this time, she was much more careful. She set her feet down slowly, and took shallow breaths, moving as silently as possible. A sound rang out down the quiet hall, and she blanched, petrified, as she stared wildly into the dark behind her, brandishing her inadequate candle. It hadn't been a sharp noise, like a footfall, more like the swoosh of fabric, and she shook her head, certain that she'd imagined it. Continuing down the corridor, she thought about just giving up, and going back to the staircase. She sighed. She would probably find another staircase soon if she just continued way she was going. After a few more minutes of stalking silently down the dusty, carpeted floor, she stopped, terrified as she saw wand light coming her way. Quickly extinguishing her candle, she tucked her body into the folds of a large tapestry. Her eyes narrowed as she searched the darkness for any sign of light. Nothing. After a few moments, she lit her candle, stepping gingerly out of the shadows. She saw the light again, but this time, she nearly laughed at herself. It hadn't been someone coming toward her, but her own candle, reflected by the dusty glass covering a sleeping portrait at the end of the hall. Her moment of relief was soon replaced with unease as she neared the end of the corridor. Sure enough, there was another staircase. But, it didn't lead up. Hermione shivered, feeling the cold, stale draft pushing up from the floor below. Well, she'd come this far, she might as well continue. It was going to be cold down there, and the only thing she had with her was Professor Snape's cloak. She felt it's enchantments warming the skin of her arm. She looked at it for a moment, pondering putting it on, She brought it to her face, pressing the soft fabric to her cheek before inhaling the scent of sandalwood. She tried not to think of her greasy potions master as she slipped the cloak over her shoulders; the silken material warmed her shilled skin as she started down the dusty, stone stairs.

With each movement she made, Hermione stirred more dust into the air. Soon, she could barely see the delicate gleam of her candle out in front of her. She sneezed violently, stopping midway down the stairs because she could no longer see where she was going. That's when she heard the footsteps. Slow, methodical and menacing as they came down the corridor above her. She heard the portraits crying out in protest as they were awakened by the new intruder. Hermione practically shook in fear as she stood in the middle of the staircase. She quickly put out her candle, watching the world go dark. The footsteps steadily approached, and she started to panic. Who could it be? What if it was a Slytherin? What if it was a _professor_?! Her breathing came in rapid gasps, and the urge to cough grew in her throat. After her momentary panic, Hermione's mind cleared enough to realize that if she didn't get off this staircase fast, she would soon be face to face with her follower. She blindly slid her foot to the edge of the stair, placing one hand on the wall as she started slowly down the steps, thankful for the silent stone the steps were made of. As she descended, the footsteps started coming faster. Hermione panicked, throwing caution to the wind and sprinting down the steps. She could see the faint glow of wand light from behind her, and knew that in a moment her follower would see her. Her heart raced as she bolted blindly down the stairs, no longer caring if the intruder heard her. In her carelessness, the very tip of her leather shoe lodged itself between the uneven stones of the stair. She tumbled down the last few steps, twisting her ankle. Her candle flew out of her hand, but she hardly had time to crawl into the shadow of the wall, let alone look for the candle. As her follower swept past her and into the corridor, the wand light blinded her. She held her breath, her heart beating wildly as she lay against the wall.

A few paces down the corridor, the person stopped, bending low to pick something up. Hermione whimpered when she saw what it was: her candle. She cowered deeper into the shadows, her lungs aching from holding her breath. She froze as the black-clad figure turned to face her, brandishing the bright wand light. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, praying that whoever it was was on the side of the light. When she opened her eyes, she startled so badly that the back of her head hit the stone wall behind her with a dull thud. A pair of large, black shoes were inches from her nose. When she heard the familiar, low voice rumble from above her, she nearly cried with relief.

"Do you make a habit of sneaking through the lower floors wearing Slytherin robes at two in the morning, Miss Granger?" She struggled to sit up, rubbing the back of her head with one hand.

"Professor Snape!" she gasped, "I'm so glad it's you. I thought…" The Potions Master lowered his wand so she could see his face. It was creased with…concern? _No, that can't be right,_ she thought, watching his face harden back to its usual mask of indifference. She was startled out of her stupor when he spoke.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew. I have your things in my chambers. You will accompany me." He stalked off down the dark hallway.

She sat up, a pounding headache starting between her eyes. "P-Professor!" she called after him, "I think I hurt my ankle when I fell." She stood against the wall, all her weight on her good ankle as he walked back towards her.

He smirked at her. "Have you?"

She placed her foot flat on the floor, putting a little weight on it. She winced, picking it up again, and nodded at her Professor.

He bent down, tapped his wand on her ankle, and muttered, "Ferula." He then conjured her a pair of crutches, before gliding silently down the hall again. She glared at his back, grabbing the crutches, and hobbling after him.

"Why didn't you just heal it?" She asked bitterly when she caught up with him.

"You will go to the hospital wing after you retrieve your things."

She huffed at him, angrily. "Please don't send me back there, I hate that place! Madam Pomfrey always makes me stay so long, drinking lots of vile potions and…"

"And what?"

"And the sheets are scratchy." She pouted. Snape smirked at her, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

"What makes you think that I would bother to heal you?"

"Because you did it before?" Hermione said, a hint of desperateness lacing her question.

He scoffed. "That was absolutely necessary for your survival. As for a twisted ankle, well, that's debatable, now isn't it?" He glared at the floor as they continued down the dark corridor, his wand the only source of light.

"Not all of it was _necessary for my survival_." She whispered, remembering how he had healed even her bruises and the tiniest of cuts. He continued as if he hadn't heard her, pausing as he came to an ancient looking doorway. He put out his light, and broke through the wards in total darkness, while Hermione watched the wisps of broken protective magic floating away from the door in sparkling strands. When the Potions Master finally reached for the doorknob, pushing the door open, she gasped, and her eyes widened in disbelief.


	6. Chapter 6

Professor Snape turned and closed the door behind them, replacing the old wards with stronger ones. His baffled companion stared at him. "You knew about that passageway?"

He smirked. "There are secrets even _you_ have yet to discover about this castle, Miss Granger."

She scoffed at him, "You'd be surprised." He raised an eyebrow incredulously, spinning neatly on his heel, and sweeping off through the Slytherin common room. Hermione stumbled after him through the labyrinth of black leather couches. He turned down an almost indiscernible corridor leading off from the corner of the common rooms. She sighed in exasperation as she tried to keep up with him. They turned right and left, going through rusty doorways and calcified arches until she was certain that they had been going in circles all along. Their breath crystalized in the air, making Hermione wonder why there were no fires in the dungeons. She was grateful for the cloak she was wearing, and remembered that it belonged to him. She looking at him, smirking a little when she noticed he wasn't wearing one. _I wonder why he hasn't asked for his cloak back_ , she thought. It was at this moment that the Potions Master suddenly called from behind her, startling her.

"And where do you think you're going?" Her cheeks reddened, and she turned to face him.

"If you didn't go so bloody fast, then maybe I could keep up with you. I'm injured, remember?"

He scowled at her, "Can't you at least keep a reasonable pace for a cripple?"

She only glared at him, not dignifying his insult with a response. He turned his back to her, his robes billowing as he stalked through an archway to the left. She rushed after him, trying not to lose him again. She found him deactivating the ward to a small, boring looking door. "Stay here." He growled, stepping inside, but leaving the door ajar. She leaned back against the cold stone of the wall, tired after so much walking. She vaguely wondered what time it was, sliding slowly down the wall, and sighing. _It must be at least three o clock_ , she thought. She brought her knees to her chest, closing her eyes for a moment to ease her throbbing headache. She jerked her head up, hearing a loud crash inside what she assumed were Professor Snape's quarters. She bolted to her feet, forgetting her twisted ankle, and threw open the door. She took in her surroundings with wide eyes, taking a few tentative steps into the room. Her shoes glided over the polished wooden floor as she smiled at the rows of tall, dusty bookshelves just waiting to be explored. Hermione barely had time to take in a small, sparsely furnished sitting room before another loud crash resonated from another room.

"Professor?" She called, walking deeper into his chambers, "Are you alright?" She came across another doorway, the heavy door already open a crack. Her hand darted to the door, and she shrieked when she opened it. Her professor was doubled over in pain, grasping a rickety looking shelf with white-knuckled grip. Hermione stood stalk still in the doorway, not sure what to do. Finally, she approached him, careful not to tread on the broken glass and splattered potions that were scattered on the floor at his feet. "Professor?" she whispered, "What's wrong?" He raised his head, his black eyes locking onto her amber ones.

"Don't you understand, you stupid girl?" He spat at her, "I'm being summoned." She nodded, suddenly understanding his state of pain.

"Don't you have to go?" she asked. He didn't answer, only lifted his wand, summoning her wand and robes from another room.

"I suggest you change before you return," he sneered, dropping the items at her feet.

"Thank you." She said, but her words were lost with the deafening crack of his apparation. She stared at the place where he had been, before reaching down and snapping up her wand. She took a deep breath, the soft vine wood comforting her. It had _so long_ since she held it. In reality, it had only been a matter of hours, but she had felt so restricted and vulnerable that it had felt like days. The first thing she did was repair the broken bottles and jars that had fallen off the shelf. Then, she scoured the potions off the floor, making it smooth and shiny again. Next, she picked up her robes, happy to find them clean and dry. _Wait, did I expect them to be damp and moldy because they were in Snape's quarters?_ She scoffed at herself. She wandered through his rooms, looking for a bathroom to change in. She felt strange changing in the open rooms, even though she knew no one was there. She walked through the halls, seeing a well-equipped potions lab, and a small wizarding kitchen with several pots washing themselves in the sink. Finally, she came across a small, tidy bathroom. Covered floor to ceiling in shining silver tile, modestly furnished in modern style, it was more than she expected. She slipped into her Gryffindor robes, a sigh escaping her lips as she finally felt like herself again, her wand tucked safely in her pocket. Suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and she froze, listening. A series of gentle sounds wafted down the hall, and she held her breath, certain that Professor Snape hadn't returned already.

"Snape!" His conceited voice rang out through the chambers, startling her. A cold shiver ran down her spine as she recognized the sharp, demanding bark. Draco Malfoy, the last person she wanted to deal with right now. She heard him bumbling about near the entry. _I hope he's alone_ , she thought, imagining the snarling faces of Crabbe and Goyle. But, she only heard one set of footsteps coming down the hallway. She blanched, looking around for a place to hide. Grateful for the closed door, she rushed to open the cabinets: searching for one big enough to hide her. She found one with a rack of towels inside that she could hide behind. Slipping inside, she pulled on the door of the cabinet a little too hard, making it slam closed loudly. She silently cursed herself as she hastily pulled the towels around her. She heard his footsteps rapidly approaching, and she drew her wand, bringing a few good hexes to mind if he decided to check the bathroom. Doors slammed open as Draco became impatient, and she pointed her wand at the cabinet door as she heard him draw nearer. The bathroom door finally slammed open, and Draco snarled, "I know you're here, whoever you are. Filthy creep!" He started tearing open the larger cabinets on the other side of the small room, and Hermione burst from her cabinet, hoping to catch him off guard. There he was, his silver eyes widened in surprise as he turned to her. She thrust her wand at him, bellowing, "Expelliarmus!" Draco's quick reflexes kicked in, blocking her spell before she had even completed the incantation. However, the sheer force of it knocked him back several paces, giving her time to step out of the closet, shouting, "Locomotor Mortis!" He was able to block this spell as well, obviously in full dueling mode now. She quickly mumbled, "Protego", crossing her wand tip in front of her body as he shouted, "Stupefy!" It cracked over her shield, sending sparks to the floor. _All I have to do is stun him, then I can get out of here_ , she thought, sending a jelly legs jinx at him that had enough force to send him stumbling from the bathroom when it hit his shield. She stepped to the door, peeking around it, before hearing a hex whistling toward her and ducking out of the way. She stuck the tip of her wand around the door, calling, "Bombardo!" while pointing it at the ceiling. She smiled as she got the desired effect, and a cloud of dust and debris rained down on Draco. Wasting no time, she rushed out of the bathroom, quickly spotting his light blonde hair even with it covered in dust. Aiming her wand at his chest, she muttered, "Petrificus Totalis," freezing his muscles so he couldn't move. She quickly cleaned and repaired everything they had damaged with a few flicks of her wand, then aimed it at Draco, whispering, "Obliviate." She smiled down at him, knowing he wouldn't remember their encounter, but proud that she had won the duel. When Snape returned, he would surely know who left this little gift for him, but she didn't care. She stalked over to the door, turning to glance back at the immobilized boy before closing it behind her. She set a few wards on the door that she knew the professor could break through easily enough before turning down the dusty, cold corridor.

 **Author's note:**

 **This story is a work in progress. I am publishing it _as I write_ , so if you have any opinions on how I'm doing, or ideas about what should happen next, or literally any thoughts at all, please review. Thank you so much for reading!**

 **P.S. I know there hasn't been much of a plot at all in these first few chapters, but you'll see it all start to come together in the next chapter. Thanks for your patience!**


	7. Chapter 7

On a cold slab of rock jutting up from the frozen earth, a crowd of seven still figures could be seen. Five were arranged in an unforgiving circle about the others; their black robes billowing in the frigid wind as they listened to the sixth figure beg for mercy. He was on his belly, on the ground at his lord's feet.

"My Lord! My Lord… Please! I won't let it happen again!"

"Crucio," his counterpart hissed, and the man's robes were soon filthy from writhing in the dirt in agony. In Snape's head, it had seemed like hours that he had endured the pain inflicted by his master, when in reality, it had only been a matter of seconds before he was released from it's clutches. He panted on the ground in a wretched, unmoving heap. "What do you have to say for yourself, Severus?" crooned the pale, merciless figure above him.

"I-I apologize, my Lord, for my weakness…" But, the potion master's pitiful plea was cut short when he was the victim of yet another Cruciatus Curse. Curling into a shuddering ball on the ground, he finally slipped into unconsciousness. The dark lord only sneered at his weakness.

"Macnair! Smith!" he barked, gesturing to two of the circled figures, "Take this man out of my sight." The two death eaters rushed forward, levitating Snape and dumping him behind a pile of rocks. "We must kill the Granger girl. The filthy mudblood is always helping Potter to escape my attacks. She is too smart for her own good. Do not protect her from me or you will suffer the consequences." The dark lord gestured toward the pile of rocks. "Do not disappoint me." He spun on his heel with a loud crack that resonated through the barren landscape.

Professor Snape awoke long after the other Death Eaters had left. He struggled to sit up, groaning and rubbing his dirty face. The unforgiving wind ripped at his robes as he stood, his knees threatening to buckle. He walked into the open, his body screaming in protest as he forced it to cooperate. He drew his wand, knowing he was too weak for wandless apparation. Instead of disapparating with his usual, powerful crack, he disappeared with a muffled boom. He stumbled to the couch in his quarters, grabbing a few vials from the shelves. Only after he downed the potions did he notice the crumpled form of Draco lying at his feet. He smirked. Usually Granger had a bit more finesse, but by the look of it, she had been angry.

With a flick of Snape's powerful wand, Draco was wide awake and on his feet. Soon, it was apparent that she had used a memory charm on him.

"I've been looking for you forever, you know!" Draco spat at the pale man on the couch. "There was a summoning, and I couldn't find you!" Snape scowled; in the chaos with Granger, he had forgotten to wait for Draco before apparating to the Dark Lord. It had been one of the many things Narcissa had insisted on.

"Draco," Snape sighed, "you must return to your dorm. I'm in no mood to entertain." Draco looked confused for a moment, then he simply nodded and walked to the door. The Potions Master raised his eyebrows. Draco seemed rather unfazed by the inexplicable gap in his day. It appeared that Miss Granger had perfected even the most complex of memory charms. Oh well, Draco was probably better off not remembering the events of that morning. And morning it was. "Bloody hell," Snape grumbled, glancing at his clock. There was only an hour before breakfast, not that he usually attended such frivolities, but he still had papers to grade. He stumbled to his desk, his body aching horribly as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He collapsed in his rickety chair, pulling himself towards the desk. Eyeing the impossibly tall stack of potions essays, he finally set to work.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter took me so long, I just couldn't get the story to go anywhere. However, I now know what the next few chapters have in store, so hopefully I will be getting those up quickly. Enjoy!**

Hermione awoke two hours later to an owl tapping impatiently at her window. Parvati glared at her through sleepy eyes. "Hermione! Stop that bloody racket!" Hermione groaned, rubbing her temples where a bit of a headache still lingered, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her roommate had apparently decided that she was too slow, because Parvati was already opening the window. The owl fluttered in, landing noisily on a pile of parchment on Hermione's nightstand. It looked at her through wide orange eyes that contrasted beautifully with it's inky black feathers. She reached for the note that was neatly tied to it's leg. When she retrieved it, the owl looked at her expectantly. It was obviously waiting for a reply. She sighed, pulling a piece of creased parchment out from under the owl's feet to write back on. She opened the intricately folded letter, reading the spiky, black writing scrawled over it.

 _ **Miss Granger,**_

 _ **I feel it necessary to inform you that you are expected in detention not only tonight, but tomorrow night as well. I feel it is imperative to discipline you not only for your irresponsible and reckless actions last night, but for the detention that if you hadn't missed, none of those unfortunate events would have taken place. In tonight's detention, I intend on having you prepare various samples of cauldron-scouring potion for testing. I trust you know the ingredients. Return Nova with a list of any ingredients you don't have. I'll expect you at 8:00pm.**_

 _ **Professor Snape**_

Hermione furrowed her brow, glaring at the parchment. She knew she was in for a rough time in detention tonight. Scouring potions meant acid burns and hours slaving over the steaming hot and temperamental potions. But at the same time, she was relieved that Professor Snape's punishment wasn't any worse. At least no house points had been taken. But, he was going to make her use her own ingredients for _his_ experiments! _I suppose that's only fair after all the potions he used on me last night._ And wait… Snape had an owl? It must be his, she'd never seen it before. She looked over at it, suddenly feeling bad for the creature. She stroked it's wing, surprised to find it's feathers silky smooth. She dug around in her nightstand drawer, searching for a treat. She finally found one, and set it in front of… "Nova?" she questioned, and the owl cocked it's head, cooing softly but ignoring the treat.

She sighed, and drug her heavy school bag toward her to check her potion ingredients. She was only low on two of the ingredients typically found in a scouring potion. She scrounged for a quill under her bed, and dipped it in the inkwell that she kept on her nightstand. She tore off the bit of parchment that she needed, and scribbled the ingredients on it before folding it in half and tying it with a few sloppy knots to the owl's leg. It immediately flew out the window, and soared over the grounds, the sun glinting off it's jet-black wings. As the owl disappeared around one of the castle's towers, Hermione couldn't help but think of how beautiful the creature was.

Hermione longed to get back in bed, but she was running late for Ancient Runes already. She yanked on her school uniform and robes, and attempted to comb out her unruly hair. She groaned in frustration, finally just tying it back in a somewhat messy bun. She slung her heavy bag over her shoulder, and rushed out the door, jealous of sleeping Parvati who didn't have an early class to get to. She sped through the common room, seeing a few sleepy faces emerging from their dorms as she burst through the portrait hole. She maintained a steady jog until she came to the main corridor, but she saw there were still a few students finding their ways to the early classes, so she slowed her pace a little. Passing several students in the hall, a flash of silver light caught her eye. She turned, searching for the source, and there! In the corner of a small archway sat a patronus. The beautiful form of a wolf stood up, stretching out his huge paws in front of him as he yawned sleepily. Hermione didn't know anyone who had a wolf patronus, she puzzled. Only a handful of students were strong enough to sustain a fully formed creature. She bit her lip, watching it's crisp, silver-blue form fade into wisps of light, then vanish altogether as it's owner's focus was broken.

Hermione suddenly remembered she was late for Ancient Runes, and set off down the corridor. She quickly found her seat in class, with the glowing patronus still prowling through her thoughts as the professor droned into the lesson.


End file.
